


Ghost

by Scarygamer345



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Could be considered minor character death, May or may not make you cry, Prepare your tearducts, The feels, not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarygamer345/pseuds/Scarygamer345
Summary: One rainy day, America gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about a friend he had when he was young. He gets surprised when he happens to bump into this friend on the street, having thought he was long dead. This may or may not make you cry, so be prepared.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t live in New York, so I made up a random address and funeral company, so the ones in the letter are obviously not real. Also, I apologise for any inaccuracies in this fic, be it historical or otherwise. I also apologise if America comes across as OOC, I tried. Also, I didn’t know if Davie had a last name, so I made one up. Enjoy!

1st of October, 1962, New York, America.

It was 1 in the afternoon. It was pouring rain, people rushing around trying to find shelter. The streets were packed, and the wet pavement made slips happen regularly, slowing other people down, or getting trodden on. One man didn’t care though. He wandered the streets aimlessly, like a ghost, lost in his memories, oblivious to everything around him.

_He remembered the day clearly. It was a sunny day, the sun shining, the birds chirping, the wind rustling through his hair. It had been a beautiful day. He remembered seeing those blue eyes of his, the same colour of the sky above._

_“Hey, I’m Davie!”_

_He remembered his eyes lighting up, having found a new friend. He remembered going to Davie’s house, and the book. He remembered his quest to find the blue flowers that Davie wanted…_

“Davie…” America sighed. Sometimes he got nostalgic of the past, wrapped up in it. He had gotten over it long ago, but that didn’t mean he missed Davie any less.

_He remembered going up to England, asking for the blue flowers. He remembered his eyes lighting up when England had a whole bouquet of them. He remembered running, trying to find Davie, to give him those blue flowers he’d always wanted._

America struggled with keeping his tears hidden. He may have gotten over it, but the next memory really got to him.

_He remembered seeing Davie, calling out to him, giving him the bouquet of flowers, following him to the funeral, and laying them in the coffin. He remembered realising that the man in the coffin was Davie, that he was dead._

America wiped a stray tear that had escaped away. “At least he finally got those flowers, in the end…”

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

America turned, an apology on his tongue, but it died down when he saw the other man’s face.

“Davie?”

The man gave him a puzzled look. “How do you know my name?”

This shocked America. He tried to play it cool by saying; “Ahahaha, just a lucky guess.”

The man, Davie, gave him another look. “Okay…”

He turned to leave, but America stopped him, saying; “Look, I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. I know this really good coffee shop a few streets down. Wanna go?”

Davie appeared to contemplate his offer, then seemed to come to a conclusion. “Sure. Free coffee.”

America laughed. “Great! Let’s go!”

They both set off to the coffee shop, none the wiser to what it would entail.

 

After that, the two became good friends. America knew it was a bad idea, and that he should end it there, but he didn’t. He continued to be friends with Davie, (who he later found out, was actually a descendant of the original Davie) hanging out with him, and even go him some blue flowers. He found it strange how similar the two Davies were, almost as if the one in front of him were an incarnation of the one that had died many moons ago.

This continued on for a while, and it got to the point where one day, America had to leave. Leave New York, leave Davie, behind. He couldn’t bear it anymore. It was better this way anyway. He wouldn’t have to watch him grow old and die, like he did last time. America couldn’t help but shed some tears anyway. It was all for the best.

 

5th of October, 2016, New York, America.

It was one in the afternoon. It was pouring rain outside, so America was just lazing around his house, playing video games with Japan.

“Hah! I beat you! In your face!”

“No need to be a sore winner, America…” Japan said sullenly.

“Dude, you’re just upset cause you keep losing. Chill.”

Japan rolled his eyes at America’s words.

They both jumped when they heard a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” America shouted.

He raced to the door, feeling hyper after his victory. He opened the door, to find the mailman, soaking wet, holding some letters and packages.

“Alfred F. Jones?”  
“That’s me.”

“You’ve got some mail.”

America held back the ‘no shit Sherlock’, accepting the mail.

He closed the door, and put the mail on the kitchen table, going back to his video game.

“What was it?” Japan asked.

“Oh, just some mail. It’s nothing.”

“It could be important, you should check.”

“Aw, c’mon man, I just wanna get back to our game!”

“It won’t take very long.”

“Fiiiine.”

He looked through the letters, finding a lot of nothing, until he came across one with a black seal.

“Huh? I don’t know anyone that would’ve died…”

He opened the letter, and read it. His eyes widened, and the letter fell from his hands.

“America? What is it? What is wrong?” Japan asked, walking into the room.

America remained silent, unmoving. This concerned Japan, so he picked up the letter. It read:

 

Dear Mr Jones,

It is with our deepest regret to tell you of Davie Smith’s death.

You have been invited to the funeral at number 5 First Street, on Monday the 17th, in October.

Our deepest condolences,

The Funeral Home

 

Japan put the letter on the table. He had no idea who this ‘Davie’ person was, but apparently they meant a lot to America.

“Are you going to go?”

America had finally unfrozen, sitting on one of the chairs, his head in his hands. He was still silent, which was very worrying. America was never silent.

Japan eventually left, having other things to do. Which left America, all by himself. He couldn’t believe that he’d been invited to Davie’s funeral. Did that mean that Davie never forgot him? America blinked away his tears.

He would go. See him off one last time. After all, he never really said goodbye.

 

17th of October, 2016, New York, America.

America stood outside the funeral home. He wore a suit for once, despite him feeling very uncomfortable in it. He held a bouquet of blue flowers in his hands.

He willed himself to walk inside. It was a difficult task. He felt very antsy throughout the entire thing, surrounded by people he didn’t know, hearing about Davie’s life.

The time came where everyone stood up to go say their goodbyes, and leave something on the coffin. It was a closed casket, so at least he didn’t have to see him, like he did when he was young.

He walked up to the casket, and left the flowers there, his eyes dry. He then turned, and left the place, as he just couldn’t stand to be there a second longer.

When he got back to his house, he went straight to his bedroom, and cried. He disliked crying, as it wasn’t something a ‘hero’ would do, in his opinion, and he always tried to control it, but not this time. He deserved it this time.

He was so wrapped up in his grief, that he almost didn’t hear the creak of footsteps on his floorboards. He looked up, and nearly passed out. Standing there, in the doorway, was Davie, just as he looked 54 years ago.

America blinked. There was no way that was real. He was just so consumed with grief that he was seeing things. Either that, or it was a ghost. That last thought freaked America out, causing him to dive under the covers of his bed.

Davie, who had been standing in the doorway, tried to calm him down.

“Wait! Alfred, I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to see you one last time.”

This caused America to look up from the covers.

Davie continued. “You left so suddenly, you didn’t even say goodbye. I always wondered if I was going to see you again, but you never came back. I think I know why, now.”

America got up from the bed, walking over to Davie’s ghost. “I’m really sorry, but I knew what was going to happen eventually, and I couldn’t let myself get so attached to you. I guess it happened anyway.”

Davie smiled. “It’s ok, I forgive you. You were a really great friend, just so you know.”

America smiled back, albeit a watery smile. “So were you, you were the best friend I could ever have.”

Davie smiled, then started fading away. Somehow, America felt a little better.

He was in for a surprise when night came around.


End file.
